


Well then, I guess we're both idiots

by Pomodoridori



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Rebels: Servants of the Empire - Jason Fry
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt, Implied Past Child Abuse, M/M, and maul is just an ass, but not very much, except…he has no ass, obi-wan is a sarcastic ass, so watch out if thats not your cup of tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomodoridori/pseuds/Pomodoridori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where it's obi-wan who finds maul on lotho minor instead of savage oppress.  Maul is not impressed.  Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Help me up, you pisswanker!

**Author's Note:**

> in which Maul and Obi-wan's first meeting in years goes very, very badly.
> 
> Feel free to send prompts to me at: pomodoriyum.tumblr.com !!

In all honesty, Obi-wan had no idea what had drawn him to this backwater planet to begin with.  Lotho Minor was all of a pit stop for freighters and other ships to dump their trash: it was literally an endless junkyard of rusting metal and rotting foodstuffs.  Despite the planet’s less-than-attractive features, Obi-wan had landed his ship on the shifting piles of garbage.  He’d promised himself that he’d only step outside for a brief moment to stretch his legs and go through a few breathing exercises.  Taking a walk was out of the question: it’d be too easy to get lost in the miles of rubbish surrounding his small ship (especially on a virtually unknown planet), and even with the help of the Force guiding him it would be difficult navigating the trash heaps.

As he opened the steel-reinforced glass that encased the cockpit, Obi-wan recoiled as the smell of rotting food assaulted his nostrils.   _ Honestly _ , he thought,  _ I really should have ignored the pull of the Force.  Whatever’s here isn’t worth the trouble. _

Despite his doubts, Obi-wan felt the niggling pull of the Force again.  He sighed and jumped out of the ship, landing with a crunch.  He felt something ooze onto his sock and looked down in consternation.  Obi-wan shuddered at the slimy feeling of an unknown fluid welling about his ankles.  He quickly stepped out of the puddle of goo (oil, perhaps?) and began rolling out his tense shoulders and kicking out his legs to loosen them up.   _ If there’s one thing I dislike about flying, it’s the aches and pains that come from sitting still in that suffocating cockpit for so long. _  After a few more minutes of stretching, Obi-wan began to clamber back into the ship.   _ Time to leave this miserable planet behind. _

As he lowered himself back into the cockpit, Obi-wan felt another tug from the Force, insistent and niggling.   _ The last time I ignored the Force like this I ended up facedown in a puddle of cowshit. ...Dammit. _

Obi-wan hauled himself out of the ship. _Whatever the Force intends..._ _I already know this will be terrible._  He began to follow the pull of the Force, letting the tendril lead him due south.  As Obi-wan walked (stumbled, more like. The ground was heaped with trash and there were dangerous holes and pitfalls to avoid) he noted that there was a familiar presence in the Force that began to echo in his mind, pulling him further south and more urgently (it seemed to like a soft whisper at first, a southsouthsouth, but as he followed the Force it morphed into a shout, a steady: SOUTHSOUTHSOUTH).  The presence was dark, brooding.  Dangerous and flighty.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.  Obi-wan felt as if a ghost were breathing down the back of his neck.  The presence was familiar...but skewered.  Like it’d been twisted, deformed since he’d last felt it.   _Who is it?  They’re familiar, and I know I’ve sensed this presence before…_

Reality hit Obi-wan like a sack of bricks. 

“No,” he gasped in shock, “it can’t be!  He died on Naboo!”   _ It must be a mistake.  He was DEAD! And I only felt his presence for a moment...it’d be easy to forget… _ (in the back of his mind, though, Obi-wan knew he’d never forget the Force signature of the creature that had killed master Qui-Gon.)

Caught midway between panic and thought, Obi-wan did not notice how the Force presence began to draw near, shivering and quaking.  All he felt was a growing pressure in the fabric of the Force, and restlessness, full of rage and--  _ THINK! Think! ...Kenobi, calm down. _

Blinking, Obi-wan drew in a deep breath, found his center, and finally noticed the figure approaching.  It seemed small still, outlined on the horizon, but Obi-wan knew he’d have to hide quickly.  

Masking his force-presence, Obi-wan ducked beneath an overhang of garbage and waited for the creature to arrive.   _ If I’m in luck, Darth Maul won’t know what’s coming. _ Grimly, Obi-wan put a hand to the hilt of his lightsaber.  

\------

Maul’s approach took a lot longer than Obi-wan expected, and by the time he arrived, the light had begun to fade, casting eerie shadows along the ground.

Obi-wan took a moment to take in the appearance of his opponent as he crested the hill: jagged horns marred his forehead (before, they’d been smaller, more contained, probably filed, thought Kenobi distantly) and he seemed to dip and bounce a bit as he walked, almost like--

Obi-wan grimaced.  Maul’s lower torso  had been patched together with what seemed to be spare parts: six legs jutted out awkwardly from a spider-like abdomen that twitched this way and that.   _ Revolting.  Guess his legs didn’t quite make it. _

As Maul approached, Obi-wan noted how he gestured around and about, muttering and exclaiming nonsense to the sky.  His metal legs shone dully in the light, clanking this way and that.  With dawning horror, Obi-wan realized that Maul was raving to no one but himself.   _ Before he was powerful, frightening...but this is pathetic.  He’s gone mad. _

Obi-wan watched as the once graceful creature scuttled back and forth, clutching at his head and growling about what sounded like ‘revenge’ and ‘mercy’ and ‘brother’ and ‘Jedi’, all in one long stream of nonsense.

_ I should have left the planet while I had the chance. _

Obi-wan wanted to step out from the shadows, finish the job he’d started all those years ago on Naboo, end this pitiful monster’s life, but found that he was frozen in place.  His own Force presence flickered in annoyance (it had been  _ years _ since he’d last hesitated) and Maul paused mid-sentence, yellow eyes hooded and glittering as he swayed back and forth, sniffing the air.

Suddenly, a wave of rage hit Obi-wan full in the face.  It bowled him over, almost, seething and gnawing at the corners of his mind.  For a moment, he felt lost in a storm of darkness: an angry ocean of greys and blues swirling about him, yanking at his robes, reaching up towards his throat to rip and tear.  Then Obi-wan found his center, and the darkness was repelled from his mind.  He stepped into the clearing just as Maul ran forwards, snapping his jaw and howling madly.  

Obi-wan had his lightsaber out instantly, blazing and ferocious.

Heedless of the weapon, Maul dove over Obi-wan’s head, stabbing at him with spearlike projections at the ends of his legs.  With a belated curse, Obi-wan spun his lightsaber and in a shower of sparks, Maul’s legs fell out from under him (an ironic twist of fate that made Obi-wan wince, just a bit).

Maul gave a surprised sort of screech, golden eyes wide and uncomprehending as he scrabbled for balance.  Despite his efforts, Maul tipped over and fell with a thud, as what was left of his legs convulsed and dripped molten metal in dull splatters onto the dirt.

Obi-wan retreated a few steps away, watching Maul struggle.

Maul hissed at him.  “Ssscum!  I’ll have you dead, I will! I’ll destroy you, Jedi!!”

And he began to claw his way through the rubble towards Obi-wan, dragging his metal half behind him in a chilling echo of some dying, distraught animal.  Maul continued to sputter, deranged and out of control as Obi-wan waited for him to approach.

_ Dammit, _ Obi-wan thought,  _ I’m not allowed to kill a defenseless creature.  Not by the way of the Jedi code...although… _  He narrowed his eyes at Maul, who continued dragging himself forward inch by painful inch.   _ I think I’ll have to disobey the codes this time.  _

_...I’ll make it quick. _

Obi-wan sprung forward, slicing his lightsaber down, intending to behead Maul and end it, but at the very last moment Maul lurched to the side, and instead of killing him Obi-wan found his lightsaber embedded in his robotic abdomen.  Maul screamed then, though not in pain, and he curled in on himself, hands grasping and groping for the handle of the saber.

Obi-wan got there first, but by the time he turned to deal the killing blow, Maul had scrambled away, whimpering under his breath.

“Mercy! Mercy!” Maul wailed, one hand clawing at his face.  “Mercy! Please!!”

Obi-wan stared at the pathetic, trembling creature before him, whose legs continued to twitch uselessly in the dust.

... _ Dammit. _

Obi-wan powered his saber off and strode towards Maul, lifting him up by the collar.

Maul snarled and spat in his face, shoving him away wildly with one arm.  “Don’t touch me, Jedi scum!”

Obi-wan felt for the creature’s temple, and with one heavy handed smack and a tiny Force suggestion, knocked Maul out.

Maul went limp and loose in his arms.  Obi-wan let him thud to the ground.   _ Bastard deserves at least that much. _

Staring at Maul lying prone on in the dirt, Obi-wan knew that he couldn’t leave him there.  The man would starve: Obi-wan could count his ribs, which indicated that he was already food-deprived (food was clearly scarce here, and Obi-wan hadn’t seen any natural resources).  Obi-wan heaved a sigh.  “Well, I can’t exactly tow you back to the ship when you have half a ton of metal soldered into your skin.”

So, with a measure of satisfaction, Obi-wan finished slicing off Maul’s abdomen for the second time in his life.

\----

By the time Obi-wan had managed to restrain Maul’s limp body in the passenger seat of his ship, Maul was coming-to.

“Uurrghhh…” Maul moaned.  His arm twitched.

Obi-wan grumbled.  “Be quiet.”

Upon hearing his voice, Maul’s bloodshot eyes opened wide.  “You?!” He choked out.

“Yes,” Obi-wan agreed, “me.”

Maul jerked in his restraints then, sharp teeth nearly clamping around Kenobi’s throat in a vise, and Obi-wan pulled back just in time.

“You’re a handful, aren’t you, Maul?”

Maul snapped his yellowed teeth at the Jedi.  Obi-wan resisted the urge to punch his face.   _ Be calm,  _ he told himself _. Find your center. _  A few deep breaths later, and he felt himself relax.

Obi-wan finished tying on the last of the restraints and settled himself into the pilot’s chair.

_ I already regret this, dammit. _

And then he soared off into the star-filled sky.

_ Time to fly to Coruscant. _

\----

 

Fifteen minutes later and Obi-wan was close to losing his damn mind.

His prisoner (what else was the Zabrak, really, at this point?)  had not ceased in muttering and mumbling under his breath: cursing the Jedi Order, swearing he’d kill Kenobi, reciting an endless list of those who had done him wrong...  Obi-wan gritted his teeth.

_ I regret not gagging him.  Although he’d probably end up choking on the thing. _

“And then Maul’ll bite their fingers off, oh yess, and Maul will lick up all the blood, and they’ll scream and Maul won’t like it, so Maul will slice their heads off and eat them and--” (Maul’s litany continued on, but for the sake of the reader it’s been excluded here.)

Obi-wan finally lost his patience (ironic that a Jedi would lose his patience to a  _ Sith  _ of all people.)

“Shut up.”

Maul paused for a moment.  And then-- “Oooohhhhh, it seems like the pathetic little Jedi doesn’t like to hear Maul ssspeaking, does he?  Ehehe, Maul thinks that sssuits a silly, whimpering little Jedi.  Stupid Kenobi!”  Darth Maul barked.  “He’s dense like his tall Jedi master, isn’t he?”  Maul cackled.  “The master was so weak, so stup--”

“Maul, if you don’t shut up, I’ll  _ make you  _ shut up _.” _  Obi-wan let himself fall prey to his rage-- just a little.   _ It’s not like I’m actually going to hurt him.  But intimidation can work wonders, although on Maul-- _

The Zabrak began to laugh, raspy and loud.  “Make me?  _ Make me? _ ” He wheezed.  “No, a spineless creature like you...ahahah...ahahahah...pfffttttt...stupid, stupid, STUPID!”

Obi-wan snapped.   _ This is it.  I’m going to strangle him.  I’m going to give in to my anger, I’ll smash his windpipe, invert it… _ he twisted in his seat, ready to snuff out Maul’s life...

Then a realization hit him, and Obi-wan took a steadying breath.  He turned back around (Maul was facing the back of the ship, and so was unable to see Kenobi) and ignored the Zabrak’s cackling.   _ That was close.  His entire Force presence...it was influencing me.  Making it easier to succumb to rage.  Maul...it’s as if he  _ wants _ death… _

Obi-wan piloted the ship forwards in silence.

\----

Obi-wan did, eventually, put a gag over Maul’s mouth.  The Zabrak was too loud: tried to piss him off with taunts, and even when he wasn’t doing that he was mumbling incoherent nothings under his breath.  It was irritating, and Obi-wan needed a few moments of peace and quiet so he wouldn’t snap again.  So the Jedi wrapped a swath of linen around Maul’s head, effectively gagging him.  As an afterthought, he also secured Maul’s head to the headrest, effectively pinning him.  Kenobi preferred not to be headbutted by a creature with six inch long horns that had also (conveniently) completely lost its marbles.

Although the Zabrak made noises of anger and malcontent, Obi-wan ignored his growling.  After a few minutes, Maul quieted, and the cockpit fell silent, save for the occasional beep from the radar.

Hours passed, and Kenobi could feel himself tiring.   _ Time for a pit stop.  Let’s see...we’re about two hours away from Tatooine...We’ll spend the night there and move on to Coruscant tomorrow. _

\----

Tatooine was just as miserably hot as Obi-wan remembered it.  Within the first hour of docking his ship, he’d begun to feel the beginnings of a sunburn on the back of his neck.

Fortunately, though, before the burn could worsen, Obi-wan retreated to the shade provided by a desolate looking string of buildings that had a faded sign by the roadside proclaiming, ‘Best Motel in All of Tatooine!’

Obi-wan entered, breathing a sigh of relief as chilled air embraced him.  He booked a motel room (the sleepy receptionist droned on and on about rules that Kenobi could not care less about), got the room keys, inspected the it (removing anything that could be used as a weapon), and then went to fetch Maul.

\----

Maul appeared to be asleep in his chair when Obi-wan arrived.  His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft, gentle, even.  He looked exhausted.  Obi-wan removed the cloth that was covering his mouth, wrinkling his nose.  The Zabrak’s mouth appeared to be full of open sores: likely a dietary problem.  Not enough vitamins, or something.

“Maul.”  Obi-wan prodded him in the arm.

“Ghhhnnnnrrphhh….” Maul mumbled, and twitched.

“Maul.”

“Piss off…” Maul groaned.  “Go away, Savage, lemme sleep…”

_ Savage?  Interesting…  _ “I’m not a savage, Maul, I’m a Jedi.”

A few seconds passed, and then Maul’s eyes shot open, blinking at him rapidly as he growled,  “Fuck off, Kenobi.”

“No, Maul.  I’ve booked a motel.”

“And?” snarled Maul, “What’s  _ that _ got to do with  _ me _ ?”

“I’m going to take you to the motel.  You are going to behave, and eat dinner without protest.  Then, I am going to restrain you again.  Understood?”

Maul spat in his face, and Obi-wan jerked backwards to avoid the spittle.

Obi-wan sighed.   _ At least he’s relatively coherent now.  Before he was a stuttering mess. _

“If you resist me or try to escape, I am going to tie you back up and will not let you loose again until we reach our destination.”

Maul stared at Kenobi, obviously unimpressed with his threats.   _ Well, _ thought Obi-wan belatedly,  _ I should have expected that. _

He carefully untied the Zabrak, making sure to tie his hands behind his back.  As Obi-wan leaned over Maul to tighten the knot binding his hands (an incredibly stupid idea that Kenobi would’ve regretted if things went poorly), Maul lurched forwards, smashing his face and horns into Obi-wan’s torso.  Obi-wan pushed Maul away and flung himself backwards, cursing, one hand resting on the hilt of his saber.  Maul fell to the floor, twisting, and hit his head with an audible crack.  He jerked once and passed out.

Obi-wan relaxed.   _ That went a lot better than it could have.  Although I’ll be pissed if he’s gotten a concussion.  That will keep us from getting back to Coruscant quickly. _

\---

Ten minutes later, Obi-wan had managed to drag the semi-conscious, moaning Zabrak into the motel room (despite being only half of the normal body weight for a Zabrak and unusually bony, Maul was  _ heavy _ ).  He set him down on a rickety chair, tying his hands behind the back of it so Maul wouldn’t be able to move them.  Obi-wan began to take out the food he’d brought: a few ration bars, an orange, and a bottle of water.  Not much, but enough for a short trip.  Obi-wan hadn’t planned on taking a prisoner.  In fact, he’d only been out to visit the mountain range west of Oberos on Xanathos: there were rumors of an ancient power dwelling there, and Obi-wan wanted to see if it was a Sith hideout.  It hadn’t been, and instead he found a Sith wandering among piles of garbage on Lotho Minor.

Obi-wan looked up from the food on the table when a low groan echoed through the air.  The Force rippled slightly, aching and raw.  Maul opened his eyes.  “Where-- where the hell…?”

Obi-wan sighed.  “The motel room.  The one I booked.”

Maul glared at him groggily, silent.

Obi-wan gestured to the food.  “If you promise to behave I’ll let you feed yourself.”

“How many people saw you drag me through the streets unconscious?”  Maul sounded indignant.

Obi-wan shrugged.   _ May as well play along.  He seems calmer now, at least. _  “Only a few.”

Maul growled,  and Obi-wan felt the Force fluctuate angrily.  “How disgraceful.” He spat.

Obi-wan sighed.  “I doubt they knew who you were.  Probably thought you were just some drunk.”

“Just some drunk?”  The Zabrak was fuming.

“Yes.  Are you hungry?”

“No.”  Maul’s stomach growled, and he looked away, embarrassed.

Obi-wan snorted.  “Of course you aren’t.”  He Force-shoved a wrapper-free rations bar towards the Zabrak, letting it rasp softly against the grain of the table.  Maul looked down at with an expression of disgust and anger.

After a few moments of silence, Maul inquired sulkily, “Am I going to have to eat it like some dog, Kenobi?”

“No.”  Obi-wan stood and untied one arm from the knot binding it to the back of the chair.

Maul growled and took a tentative bite of the rations bar.  He chewed, wincing (Obi-wan would bet one hundred credits that it was because of the weeping sores on his gums).  After a few more small bites, Maul practically inhaled it, glaring at Obi-wan all the while, as if threatening him to comment.  Kenobi kept his mouth shut and instead poured two glasses of water.  He set one down near Maul and took a sip from his own.

Maul drained his glass of water within seconds.  Obi-wan raised his eyebrow at him.

“Would you like some more?”

Maul didn’t reply, frowning at him.

Obi-wan sighed and poured him another glass.

Maul drank this one slower, seeming to savor it.  Once he’d finished it, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  Obi-wan ate his own rations bar and orange quietly, watching him and counting.

It took less than five minutes for the Zabrak’s breathing to even out and deepen.

Obi-wan suppressed a snort and went about securing Maul for the night.


	2. Cabbage is for losers (oranges are too)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maul learns he likes oranges.

Obi-wan woke to shrill screaming and a CRACK to the back of his skull from a Force-propelled mug.  He jerked awake, one hand scrabbling for his saber, while the other snatched a pillow to use as a flimsy shield.  The mug rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a clang.  Maul, still tied to the chair across the room, was shouting.

“WHERE ARE MY LEGS, SCUM?!”

Obi-wan heaved a sigh.  “You  _ just  _ noticed?”

“I asked you a question, Kenobi, now ANSWER IT!”

“Calm down, you idiot.  Did you really think your bug-legs-- or whatever you called them-- would’ve fit in my tiny ship?”

Maul hissed.  “You should’ve left me there, then.  I want my legs back.   _ Now. _ ”

Obi-wan shook his head.  “And why would I do that?  You’re dangerous enough already without them.  Besides, where am I going to get six robotic legs to stick into your short little torso?”  He rubbed the back of his head ruefully.   _ That mug hurt.  Bastard’s got better aim than I thought he would. _

Maul snarled something (probably offensive) under his breath and went silent.

Obi-wan snorted.  “I take it you’d like to eat now?”   _ Although I may not have enough food for us both come lunchtime. _

Maul did not deign to answer and instead looked out the grimy window set into the thick adobe walls.

_ I really shouldn’t have expected an answer from the prick. _  Obi-wan went through his bag, pulling out a few rations bars and two bright oranges.  He unwrapped one of the rations bars and dropped it in front of Maul.

“Despite your less-than polite wake up call, I’m going to let you feed yourself again.”  Obi-wan felt the Force fluctuate angrily as Maul took offense.  Instead of responding, though, he remained sullenly silent.  Obi-wan untied one of his hands and the Zabrak snatched up the rations bar, tearing into it with an animalistic snarl.  Kenobi sighed and began to peel an orange.   _ I don’t think I’ll have a rations bar this morning.  It’d be too heavy...an orange will do. _

Obi-wan continued peeling the orange, then set about tugging it apart.  He bit into one of the sweet slices with satisfaction.   _ Mmm.  Oranges are the best. _

After a while, Obi-wan noticed that Maul was staring at him with a strange expression.  Obi-wan licked his sticky fingers, gesturing to the other orange sitting on the table.  “Would you like that one?”

Maul frowned.  “It’s wasteful not to eat the skin of that...fruit.”

Obi-wan shrugged.  “The skins are bitter.”   _ He probably hasn’t eaten them before.   _ He flicked a fragment of orange peel across the table to Maul.  “Eat them if you want.”  Obi-wan grabbed the other orange and began to strip off its skin.

Maul watched him with glittering yellow eyes, and to Obi-wan’s belated surprise, picked the orange rind off the table and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

“It’s soft,” he announced quietly, as if having discovered something monumental, “and not at all bitter.  I suppose that’s because weaklings like you Jedi have soft taste buds.”

Obi-wan snorted and shoved the rest of the pile of peels towards Maul.

Maul continued eating them, more delicately than Obi-wan expected, considering his previous savagery concerning food.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” cautioned Obi-wan.   _ I don’t want to clean vomit from the inside of my ship. _

The Zabrak ignored him, so Obi-wan fell quiet.  He finished peeling the orange and began to separate it into many smaller slices.  Then he Force-pushed them towards Maul.

“These will taste better.”

Maul raised an eyebrow at him, mouth full of orange skins.  He swallowed.  “Hmph.”  And he continued munching on the orange peels.

Rolling his eyes, Obi-wan stood and began to pack up his meager belongings.   _ If he doesn’t eat those by the time I’m done with this, I’ll eat them myself. _

It took very few minutes to pack up, and when he was done, Obi-wan dusted himself off.  He looked over at Maul.

Maul’s eyes were glazed over.  He was clutching an orange slice in one hand while he chewed slowly.   _ He looks like he’s in shock.  ...Guess he likes them?   _

After a few moments of staring over Obi-wan’s shoulder, Maul twitched back to attention, sunburst eyes focusing, his gaze becoming piercing once more.

“Well?” Obi-wan inquired dryly.  

“The fruit is…” Maul pulled a face.  “Excruciatingly sweet.  And it...stings.”  Even so, Maul popped another slice into his mouth.

“So you like it, then.”

“I did not say that, Kenobi.”  Maul was growling slightly.

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow.  “Sure you didn’t,” he murmured under his breath.  The Zabrak stiffened slightly.

“Well, then,” Obi-wan intentionally ignored the ire that was pouring his way (courtesy of Maul), “we’re leaving.  I’m going to carry you, and you’re not going to cause trouble.”

Maul bared his yellowing teeth.  “We’ll see about that, Jedi.”

_ On second thought, I think I’d rather knock you out. _

\----

After a brief scuffle, Obi-wan picked up Maul’s prone form.   _ Damn,  _ he thought, staring at the remnants of the chair that littered the room, _ Maul’s far more flexible than I imagined. _

Maul twitched in his arms.  His breath smelled awful: a mix of oranges with an undertone of something rotten.  Obi-wan shuddered.   _ Ugh.  Disgusting.  When we arrive on Coruscant I’m going to introduce him to the joys of toothpaste. _  Obi-wan left the motel, garnering a few strange looks (which he promptly ignored.  The locals could think what they wanted).  He jogged back to the ship, Maul’s chin bouncing uncomfortably on his collarbone.  

He secured his passenger in a chair (more tightly this time-- Obi-wan was far more wary after watching the Zabrak slip his arms gracefully out of knots that should have been near impossible to wriggle out of) and started up the ship.  The engine hummed gently.

_ Alright Coruscant, here we come. _

\----

 

Coruscant was dark and buzzing by the time they arrived, glowing city lights giving the planet an eerie aura.  Obi-wan parked his ship on the nearest landing pad to home, and readied himself to drag Maul’s unconscious form once more.   However, when he turned to knock the Zabrak out, Maul said quickly, “I’ll behave, Kenobi.”

_ I’m sure you’ve got one hell of a headache from when I whacked you in the forehead during our pit-stop for lunch.  Bet you’re regretting trying to Force-stab me with a plastic spoon now, asshole. _  Obi-wan raised an eyebrow.

“Will you, now?”

“Yes,” Maul hissed impatiently.  “Now let me out of this chair.”  He wriggled a bit.

“No.  I haven’t forgotten what happened during lunch.”  Obi-wan reached out, resting his hand on Maul’s temple.  Maul jerked away, but before he could do much else, Obi-wan knocked him out using the Force.

As Obi-wan carried the Zabrak back to his apartment in the pounding rain, he thought:  _ Maul’s right about one thing.  I’ve got to find another way to transport him. _

\---

Reaching home was a relief.  Obi-wan let out a small sigh of contentment as he entered his familiar, messy quarters.  He dumped Maul on the doormat carelessly and removed his soaked outer clothing, hanging them to dry on one of the pegs by the door.  Then, he gently peeled off Maul’s ratty shirt.  It was faded black and filthy: smelled of sweat and and blood and motor oil.  Obi-wan made the decision to chuck the item into the incinerator (because honestly?  It looked like the same vest Maul had worn when Obi-wan sliced him in half all those years ago on Naboo.)  He propped Maul up on the side of the wall.   _ I’ll need to get him a shirt. ...And a towel.  And a shower.  He smells awful. _

Obi-wan walked across the room, opening up the wardrobe on the other side of his bed.  He selected a towel and one of his smallest shirts.   _ Say what you like about Zabraks in general, but Maul is smaller than I am. _

Obi-wan went to the bathroom and began to run the water for a bath.   _ I’ll have to be in here with him.  I don’t want him to try anything. _  Obi-wan carefully collected his shaving equipment and tucked it in a cabinet out of reach.  He spread a bathmat on the floor.

When Obi-wan came back for Maul, he was nowhere in sight.  Obi-wan sighed and reached out with the Force: feeling for any ripples and shifts in the fabric of it.  A small tendril of anger disturbed it, emanating from--

“Maul, I know you’re under the bed.”   _ Like a goddamn gremlin. _

Silence.

_ This is ridiculous.   _ Obi-wan approached on padded feet, peering into the darkness under the bed.   _ There _ .  A glint of golden eyes, and Obi-wan used the Force to drag Maul, hissing and spitting, out from under the bed.  Maul glared at him, flexing his hands angrily.

Obi-wan sighed.  “I don’t know  _ what _ you thought you were going to accomplish by hiding under my bed.”

Maul glared at him.

“I’ve also prepared hot water for a bath.”

Maul snarled.  Obi-wan smiled blandly.

\----

A few screams and attempts to scratch eyes out later, Maul sat fuming nose-deep in bubbles on one end of the bathtub, glaring at Obi-wan (incidentally, it was the furthest end of the bath from the Jedi.)  Kenobi gave him another shit-eating grin and tossed some soap at him.  

“Wash.  You smell ungodly.”

Maul sank lower into the mound of bubbles and moodily grabbed the soap, scrubbing hard at his skin.  Layers of grime washed off, turning the water a grey-brown color.  After a few minutes, Maul threw the soap back at Obi-wan, hard.  Obi-wan caught the soap with one hand, allowing the Force to keep it from slipping from his fingers.

“You done then, Maul?”

Maul growled at him.  Obi-wan let the water out and threw a towel over his head.  The Zabrak snorted and dried himself off.  He used his hands (and just a  _ tad _ of the Force) to propel himself onto the bathmat with a thump.  Maul winced.

Obi-wan blinked.  “It’s still sensitive, then?  The scars, I mean.”

Maul stared at him with his golden eyes.  “Yes, Kenobi.  It is still sensitive.”  His voice lilted slightly.  Obi-wan felt a few chills go down his spine.

“...Right,” he heard himself say, clapping his hands together, “guess it’s time for dinner.”

Maul huffed at him in annoyance.  “Where are my clothes?”

Obi-wan blinked at him guilelessly.  “Oh, those rags?  I chucked them in the incinerator.”

“You-- what?!”  If looks could kill, Obi-wan would be dead before Maul’s gaze.

“Yeah, they were disgusting.”   _ Serves you right.  Didn’t think you’d care, though. _

Maul gritted his teeth.  “I...see.”

Kenobi tossed a shirt to him.  “It’s my smallest.”

Maul snarled and tugged it over his head, tearing it slightly where his horns prodded into the fabric.  Obi-wan resisted the temptation to snap at him.   _ Don’t give in to it.  He’s trying to piss me off.  Besides, bitching at him won’t fix the shirt. _  Instead, Obi-wan gave Maul the widest smile he could manage.

\----

Dinner was an interesting affair.  Maul stared intently at Obi-wan as he moved about the kitchen, as if he’d never seen someone cook before.   _ Maybe he hasn’t.  I’m fairly certain his diet’s been shit, anyway. _

“There isn’t much left in the fridge, so dinner’ll be pretty bland.”  Obi-wan stirred the cabbage (he  _ hated _ cabbage) and checked on the eggs.

“I do not care.”  Maul was sitting in a chair at the table, arms crossed, chin thrust forwards aggressively.

Obi-wan shrugged and went about preparing dinner.

When he set down a (pre-peeled) boiled egg and a steaming plate of cabbage in front of Maul, an expression of confusion crossed the Zabrak’s face.  Then he frowned.

Obi-wan sat across from him and set about cracking his egg and eating it.  Maul watched him, and then popped his entire egg in his mouth.  He chewed silently and swallowed with what Obi-wan thought was unusual ease (Maul’s face didn’t  _ look _ like he could put an entire egg in his mouth without choking.)

Obi-wan ate his own egg with a spoon.  Maul glared at him, Force-tugging Obi-wan’s fork across the table.  The Jedi stiffened, ready to defend himself should Maul fling it at him, but the Zabrak merely stabbed at his cabbage.  After one or two cautious bites, Maul shoveled the rest of the plate down.  Obi-wan raised his eyebrow.   _ Apparently Maul likes cabbage. _

Maul set the fork back down on the table, stretching back in his chair with an almost inaudible sigh.

Obi-wan smirked and busied himself with eating his cabbage with a spoon.


	3. Oops, better get the superglue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan does a little grocery shopping, and Maul does not have a good time.

As Obi-wan scrubbed the plates and cleared the table, he felt Maul’s gaze boring into his back.  He turned around, suds still clinging to his hands and most of his upper arms, and looked at Maul.

“Yes?” He inquired, trying to keep his voice even because  _ Force was he tired of letting Maul piss him off. _

The Zabrak scowled at him heavily.  “Nothing.”  He averted his gaze and began to pick at a splinter that was sandwiched between two boards of the table.  Obi-wan shrugged and went back to scrubbing.   _ ‘Nothing’ my ass.  What a pain. _

As Obi-wan rinsed the plates, stacking them in the dish rack, he mused about where to put his guest for the night.   _ It’s not like I can have him roaming about unrestrained while I’m asleep.  I’d have my throat slit, and then a Sith lord would be loose in Coruscant.  _ Obi-wan suppressed a shudder.   _ The havoc he’d create would be unimaginable.  Although he’d need a new pair of legs... _  Obi-wan straightened and dried his hands on a tea towel.

_ It’s decided, then _ .  He turned towards Maul, who sat in his chair, glowering dully, arms crossed (protectively?) across his chest.   _ You’re going to spend the night in my closet. _

As if sensing Obi-wan’s thoughts, Maul’s eyes narrowed.

The Zabrak licked his lips.  “What, Kenobi?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Maul bared his yellowing teeth.  “Fine.”

It took a lot of cursing, smacking, and destruction of furniture to finally subdue the Zabrak.  Obi-wan sighed as he surveyed the mess.   _ The neighbors are going to complain about all the noise for sure. _

\----

That night, Obi-wan dreamed of a slavering beast.  It was massive, dark, brooding, muscles rippling under its skin as it snarled and snapped.  The creature was restrained by a tiny collar, leash straining and whipping about as it lashed out at him.  Obi-wan was paralyzed, stiff with terror and apprehension.  He felt his side for the comforting presence of his saber and found nothing, no weapon, and worst of all he couldn’t reach the Force.  He was blinded, helpless, unable to do anything but watch with voiceless terror as the beast launched itself at him, taking a mouthful of his leg as it dragged him back.  He hit the floor with a meaty thud, fingernails scrabbling, scraping, and an awful tearing noise filled the air as--

Obi-wan sat up in his tangled bed, sweaty and gasping.  His hands gripped the sheets, white knuckled and trembling.   _ It was just a dream. It was just a dream. _  Obi-wan repeated this mantra, taking deep meditative breaths, until his heart inched from his throat back down to his chest (and honestly he never wished more for Qui-gon, because his master had the best advice about nightmares, and he missed him  _ so much _ ).  Then he became aware of a banging on the closet door, and a cracking sound as something splintered.  There was a muffled curse.   _ The Sith.  Damn that bastard, if something irreplaceable been broken… _

Obi-wan stomped out of bed (throwing the sweat soaked sheets to the side-- he’d have to wash those later.)  He felt the rabid presence on the other side of the door still like stone for a moment.  Obi-wan unlocked the door with a wave of his hand, and the closet popped open with a click.  Inside, Maul stared up at him from the floor with a groggy, angry expression, cradling one hand to his chest (absentmindedly, he rubbed small circles on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger).  Obi-wan noted the deep gashes on the walls and door of the closet, then Maul’s bloodied fingertips and broken nails.  The pillow and bedding was left crumpled in a corner: they’d been shoved aside (curiously enough, it didn’t seem like Maul had tried to use the Force to escape.  Perhaps he’d been too tired?)

“What are you doing?”  Obi-wan did his best to keep himself from sounding angry.

“I need to piss,” Maul snarled, using a ripple of the Force to propel himself across the floor and out of the closet.

_ Oh. _

\----

“I’m going out,” Obi-wan announced.

Maul looked up from his book (he’d nabbed it off Obi-wan’s shelves during breakfast.  It was titled,  _ ‘Advanced Astrophysics’ _ , and was one of the few books Obi-wan had not yet read).

“And?”

Obi-wan could practically  _ see _ the condescension dripping from Maul’s words.  “Well, I was  _ going _ to offer to pick up anything you might need, but clearly you don’t need anything.”

Maul sent him an angry glare and went back to reading.  Obi-wan felt ripples of deep annoyance coming from the Zabrak.  He ignored it and grabbed his grocery list from the fridge door.

_ Well, it stands to reason.  If I were confined in a small space with my captor and unable to escape I’d be pissed off, too. _  Obi-wan left, locking the door behind him.   _ Maul’s recovering pretty fast.  He was really weak just two days ago...he’s been meditating, or something.  I bet that he’ll try something soon. _

\----

Obi-wan was right.  As soon as he returned home weighted down by bags of groceries, he had less than two seconds to drop to the floor and duck to avoid a being crushed by a Force-flung couch.  Obi-wan grunted and rolled to the side, waiting for another attack.

A few seconds passed.  None came.  He stood slowly, carefully, quietly, sending a gentle tendril of the Force out, searching for Maul’s bubbling presence.  A tiny fragment of anger twitched in the fabric of the Force, and suddenly Obi-wan was hit in the side, hard, Maul clawing at him.  He kicked the Zabrak away.  Maul made a pained noise and rolled onto his side, yellow eyes raging at him from across the room.

Obi-wan rubbed his flank.   _ Maul’s horns are damned painful. _  He watched Maul carefully, approaching slowly (as if he were walking towards a frightened wild animal.  Which, Obi-wan noted, he sort of  _ was _ ).

Maul let out a tired snort, then.

“What, Maul?  Surprised it didn’t work?”  Obi-wan couldn’t help but taunt the Zabrak, just a little.

Instead of exploding (which Obi-wan had been anticipating with what almost could be called glee), Maul waved a hand dismissively. “Got to keep you on your toes.  Can’t have a weak Jedi on top of a stupid one.”

Obi-wan rolled his eyes.  “You made me drop the groceries. If the eggs are cracked…” he trailed off.   _ Force, this is awkward.  Here I am, standing in my apartment, surrounded by groceries, bantering with my sworn enemy.  And I haven’t even contacted the Jedi council about this! _

“If the eggs are cracked it’s your own damn fault. You shouldn’t have dropped the bags.”

Obi-wan shook his head, chuckling.

Maul scowled.  “What, Kenobi?”

“Nothing, nothing.  Just-- the neighbors are going to complain about the noise.”

Maul stared at Obi-wan.  He muttered something under his breath (it sounded just a  _ little _ like ‘fucking idiot’) and scooted over to the table.

\----

Taking out the groceries, sorting them, and putting them into the fridge turned out to be an exercise in patience.  Maul sat at the table, commenting on everything Obi-wan pulled out of the bags.

“That’s frivolous,” he would say, or, “How wasteful,” or on occasion, “What the hell is that?  It looks like some sort of tumor!”

“That,” (Obi-wan carefully wrapped the vegetable Maul was pointing to in paper) “is broccoli.”

“Broccoli.”  Maul did not sound convinced.

“It’s a type of flower, actually.”

Maul’s eyes narrowed. “It looks disgusting.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet.”   _ He’s like a petulant child.  A petulant child with god-awful teeth. _ (Obi-wan kept stealing glances at the Zabrak’s mouth.  Filthy as it was, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off it. Strange, that.)

Suddenly, it occurred to Obi-wan that he didn’t know how old Maul was.  He’d always guessed that the Zabrak was his age, if not a little older, but Obi-wan knew looks could be deceiving.   _ Yoda doesn’t  _ look _ like he’s three hundred years old, that’s for sure. _

“Hey, Maul.”

“What.” (Maul was suspiciously poking through a bag full of collard greens)

“How old are you?”

Maul looked up from his search for meat.  “Why do you care?” His tone was suspicious.

Obi-wan shrugged.  “Just curious.”

The Zabrak sighed.  “I never bothered to keep track.  My Master didn’t think it was important.”

At the mention of Maul’s master, Obi-wan felt a weight in his stomach.   _ Right. I forgot he was a Sith. _  Uneasy, he finished packing away the rest of the groceries in silence.

Maul drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. “What are we eating for dinner, Kenobi?”

“Dunno.  Here, I got you a few things...”  Obi-wan reached for his backpack, noting Maul’s surprised expression.  It quickly twisted into a grimace.

“Are you trying to bribe me, Jedi?”

Obi-wan rolled his eyes.  “Always so dubious, Maul.  I just picked up a toothbrush for you.  Your teeth are horrendous.”  He held the toothbrush out to Maul (it was marbled red and black.  A child’s toothbrush, really.)

“A toothbrush.”  Maul crossed his arms, glaring at the proffered tool.  “...My Master never required me to use a toothbrush.” (...was he  _ pouting?   _ Oh god, he  _ was. _  Obi-wan winced.)

“Trust me, you need it.  And I got some nail files.  For your horns.”

Maul growled, one hand going up to his forehead to touch a jagged horn, almost self-consciously.  “My horns are fine, Jedi.”

Obi-wan shrugged.  “Well, they’re there if you want to use them.”   _ And if you don’t, I’m going to tie you down and shorten those horns myself.  They’re damned dangerous. _

As if sensing his thoughts, Maul’s eyes narrowed.

\---

“GET OFF ME, KENOBI!”  Maul smacked Obi-wan’s hand from his shoulder, spitting brackish, bloody saliva onto the countertop of the bathroom.

“Oi!  Maul, I’m trying to help!”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!  I’m not a weakling!!”  Maul yanked the toothbrush from his mouth, slamming it into the sink.

Obi-wan pursed his lips.  “Fine, but make sure to wash out your bloody mouth with some water.”  He left the bathroom and began to prepare a disinfecting salt-water mouthwash on the stove.   _ This is awful,  _ he thought bitterly,  _ I shouldn’t have brought him here.  I should have left him to rot on that hell of a planet.  It’s like taking care of an overgrown child. _

Maul had not been ready to use the toothbrush.  He’d jammed it into his mouth roughly, causing some of the ulcers on his gums to burst and bleed.  Maul had snarled then, and kept brushing despite the pain.  More blisters had burst, and he’d turned, shouting for Kenobi.

Maul’d proceeded to growl at him about ‘ridiculous instruments’ and then rammed the toothbrush back into his mouth, like the thricedamned _ idiot  _ he was, and Obi-wan had finally put a hand on his shoulder, offering to help, and Maul had brushed him off.  

_ Well, what did you expect, Kenobi?  He’s ridiculously dramatic. _

Obi-wan sighed in consternation as he stirred more salt into the water.   _ I’m going to meditate tomorrow, otherwise I’ll explode. _

A few minutes later, Maul emerged from the bathroom, gingerly massaging his jaw.

Obi-wan pointed to the saltwater wash on the stove.  “This is going to sting, but it’ll prevent infection.”

Maul pulled himself onto the countertop, growling, and poured himself a cup.  “It smells awful.”

“It’ll feel worse.”  Obi-wan couldn’t keep the slight vindictiveness from his voice.   _ You deserve it. _

Maul took a mouthful of it, swirling the water in his mouth, shoulders tense.  He spat it into the kitchen sink almost immediately. 

“You’re supposed to hold it in your mouth.”

Maul turned on him then, eyes alight with anger, throat humming in a growl.  “Shut up.”  His hand darted out, then, going for Obi-wan’s throat.

Kenobi knocked his hand aside just as Maul lunged from the countertop, hands clawing down the Jedi’s chest as Maul fell.  Obi-wan reached out to grab Maul before he landed (his trajectory would’ve had him crushing Kenobi’s toes, and, well,  _ ouch _ ), he managed the snag something, felt Maul’s lurching weight pulling him down--

Obi-wan heard Maul’s pained yelp before he felt the warm blood spurting onto his palms.  He drew his hand back, appalled, feeling a surge of misplaced guilt and suddenly a wave of the Force crashed into him, rearing, angry, sending him flying across the room.  Obi-wan landed hard on his ass, blinking in shock, one hand raised to protect his face.  He still clutched Maul’s horn in his other hand.  With a belated curse, he dropped it, letting it clatter to the ground noisily.  Obi-wan looked over at Maul.

The Zabrak was livid, taking hissing breaths from between his teeth.  One hand clutched at his shirt, while the other wandered up to his forehead, gently prodding at the jagged remains of his horn.  Blood wept sluggishly from the tip, and Maul stifled a whimper of shock when he pressed one finger into the mess of soft tissue.

“Maul, I--”

“Shut up!  Just shut up and stay that way, Jedi!!”

Obi-wan cringed.   _ Back to Jedi.  He’s pissed. _

Maul began to rub circles around his horn.  “Damn it, Kenobi.”

Obi-wan stood.  “Here, I’ll--”

“Don’t touch me!”  Maul twisted away from Obi-wan’s blood-spattered hand, pushing himself into the wall.

Obi-wan sighed and went to the bathroom to fetch a towel and bandages.  He emerged and padded over to the groaning Zabrak.  Maul snapped his teeth at him.  Obi-wan tossed him the towel and the bandages.  “Clean yourself up.  I take it you don’t want me touching that.”  He pointed at Maul’s forehead, watching Maul flinch slightly.   _ Yikes. _

The Zabrak nodded slowly and began mopping the blood off himself.


	4. Nightmares Don't Exist (except perhaps they do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-wan feels guilty, and Maul is (extremely) uncomfortable.

Ushering Maul into the closet was a lot less difficult than usual.   _ He’s in shock. _  Obi-wan bit the inside of his cheek after closing the door in Maul’s pinched face.

“Get some sleep,” he’d said to Maul’s glassy, fish-eyed stare.  Maul had just shuffled to one corner opposite the mound of blankets, silent.  His head looked heavy from the bandages that swathed over it, weighed down with mounds of cloth.  The tip of one of his horns poked out from the side, as if wary.

“Well,” Obi-wan had muttered awkwardly, “good night.  Call if you need something.”  Then, he shut the door, trying to beat back a wave of guilt.

\---

It was difficult to sleep that night.  The air was tense, heavy with the Force, and Obi-wan was on high alert as Maul fumed in the closet.  It wasn’t threatening, exactly, the thump-thump-shuffle of Maul twisting and rustling in his blankets on the floor, just...highly unsettling.   _ Natural to be worried about it, though. _  Hours passed, and slowly, Obi-wan sensed the Zabrak begin to settle down, movements clumsy, aching, breathing (slightly) less ragged.

When Maul finally (finally!) shifted into an uneasy sleep, Obi-wan sighed and rubbed his aching eyeballs.   _ I need to rest.  Maul’s asleep now, I’ll wake up if he leaves the closet… _

Obi-wan closed his eyes and let exhaustion overtake him.

\---

At about three in the morning, Obi-wan awoke to the sound of a low moan.  

He cracked his eyes open, groaned, sat up.  The noise vibrated through the air again, filling it with the scent of fear.  The Jedi rubbed sleepily at his watering eyes, wondering in his sleep-fogged mind:  _ What the hell is that noise and how can I make it shut up? _

Then, he noticed the terror in the Force, and panic, too; thick and choking, roiling out from under the closet door.   _ The hell?  I-- _

“Shit!”

Collecting his wits, Obi-wan sprung out of bed, flipping on the lamp.  He hissed as the light blinded his eyes ( _ Dammit, should’ve waited for my eyes to adjust, now they’re watering...) _  He strode to the closet door (and silently, in the back of his mind, he thought:  _ If that Sith’s tricking me I’m going to-- _ ) and unlocked it with a click.

Maul lay trembling in the corner with his eyes pinched shut, tangled in his sheets, breaths short and muscles pulled wire-tight.

“...Maul?” Obi-wan padded softly toward him.

The Zabrak simply groaned, eyes fluttering with the effort to pull them open.

_ He can’t wake up. _  Obi-wan crouched down and gently extended a tendril of the Force towards Maul.  Maul jerked and went perfectly, utterly still.  He wasn’t breathing.  His eyes rolled under their lids, almost as if they were searching for something.

Obi-wan reached out a quivering hand ( _ Strange that I’m so nervous…) _ to touch Maul’s shoulder and rouse him from sleep.  As soon as his fingertips brushed Maul’s skin, though, the Zabrak made a pained noise, a sort of bitten-off yelp.  His eyes were still clenched shut.

“No,” Maul begged (slurred, really), voice thick with sleep.  “Master,  _ please _ .”  Under their lids, his eyes had not stopped their frantic movements.

Obi-wan felt a twinge in his stomach.   _ Hell, Maul. _ “Shhh….”  He extended another finger-like wisp of the Force, full of calm, vibrant energy.  Maul shuddered.  After a moment Obi-wan felt Maul’s heartbeats slow to their normal thump-thump, thump-thump (and Obi-wan wondered:  _ When did I start listening to his hearts? _ )  A few minutes passed, and Maul drifted back into a deeper sleep.  Obi-wan sighed and lay back on his side.   _ I’ll be damned if I ever get a proper night of sleep anymore. _  He closed his eyes-- and  _ knows _ the only reason he stayed is because of a misplaced feeling of guilt.   _ Maul would still be happily scrounging garbage piles if it weren’t for me...And he wouldn’t have a broken horn, either. _

 

\---

The next day Obi-wan woke up with a crick in his neck and a throbbing backache.  The night before he’d been kneeling, hunched over Maul’s prone form, and now his face was smashed into Maul’s sticky back, and the baseboard was cutting into his side; his knee joints were swollen, screaming at him for his stupidity.  Obi-wan sat up with a pained groan.   _ Oh Force, I feel like shit. _  He looked down at Maul, who was still asleep, breathing softly, utterly relaxed.  Obi-wan sighed.   _ Typical.  Of course the bastard slept better than I did. ...Time for breakfast.  And some morning stretches. _

\---

“We’re going out to get you some new legs today,” Obi-wan announced at the breakfast table.

Maul looked up from his scrambled eggs incredulously.  “You’re  _ what _ ?”

Obi-wan scowled.  “I’m not going to repeat myself.  We’re leaving after breakfast.”

A look of what Obi-wan could only describe as glee passed over Maul’s face.  His grin quickly twisted into a grimace.  “You’re leading me on, Kenobi.”

Obi-wan huffed.  “It’s against the Jedi code to lie to someone, Maul.”

Maul snorted.  “That’s what makes you Jedi so weak.  Your code prevents you from doing what it takes to survive.  And your interpretation of the use of the Force makes your Order pathetic.”  He punctuated his speech with little spoon-thrusts.

Obi-wan grit his teeth.  “Do you want the cybernetic legs or not?”

Maul smirked as he polished off the last of his breakfast.  “Of course I do.  Especially if they’re expensive.”

Obi-wan simply shook his head.  “Mechanical parts are always expensive.”   _ Anything to put a hole in my budget, huh, Maul? _

\---

In hindsight, taking Maul to the open-air market was...definitely not the most intelligent decision Obi-wan ever made.  Maul was angry, of course, that he had to be carried through crowds of creatures in Obi-wan’s arms.  Maul also insisted on removing the bandages around his forehead, so he ‘wouldn’t look like a complete invalid’.  

“It’s not like anyone knows who you are, Maul,” Obi-wan offered.

Maul hissed.  “That’s no consolation, Kenobi.  This situation is embarrassing-- and  _ entirely _ your fault.”

“Well, at least you’ll be able to walk by tomorrow.”  Obi-wan earned an annoyed grunting sound.  He shrugged, jostling Maul a bit.  The Zabrak tensed, and Obi-wan sighed.

“You know, I’m not out to hurt you, Maul.”

The Zabrak snorted.  “Well, that’s news.  Especially since you’ve spent the majority of your free time dismembering me.”

_ Well, aren’t you a sarcastic little shit today. _  “I wasn’t actively trying to injure you--”

“Oh, yes, as I recall it’s _ perfectly _ polite to slice someone in half a few minutes after you’ve met them.”

Obi-wan suppressed an eyeball roll.  “To be fair, that was fifteen years ago, and you tried to kill me first.”

Before Maul could open his mouth with (what Obi-wan imagined to be) a cutting retort, they arrived at a rickety stall.

“Here we are,” Obi-wan announced.  He felt Maul stiffen unconsciously in his grip.

“...So we’ve arrived,” Maul purred.   _I can_ _almost feel his satisfaction._

\---

A tall mechanic approached them.  “What can I help you with today, master Jedi…?” He kept his watery eyes on Obi-wan, ignoring the Zabrak.

Maul growled, and Obi-wan pinched him in warning.  Maul glowered silently.

“Actually,” Obi-wan smiled, “it’s for my friend here.”

“Ah, I see.”  The man grunted, and blinked at Maul for a few moments.  “...you’re in need of legs, yes?”

“Yes,” Maul bit out.  Obi-wan noted he was trembling with embarrassment (or was it fury? Maul was excellent at shielding his thoughts, and now that he was no longer weakened…  _ It seems that a few days of recuperation helped him a lot… _ )

“Any specifications?”

Maul glanced back at Obi-wan, almost nervously.  “...No.  But I’d like only two legs attached.”

Obi-wan grinned.  “No more six legged Mauls running around?”

Maul huffed.  “Shut up, Kenobi.  I had no choice in that.”

The mechanic shifted awkwardly, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve.  “I’ll be right back.  Gonna go fetch the parts.”  He pointed to a doorway covered by a sheer cloth.  “Through there is a woman named Nellie.  She’s the doctor.  She’ll attach your legs for you, and get all the nerve endings attached.”

“Alright, thank you.”  Obi-wan turned and walked to the door as the mechanic hurried away.  “What do you think, Maul?”

Maul shrugged.  “The mechanic was...dirty.”  Obi-wan peered down at Maul, whose nose was scrunched up.

“Dirty…?”  

“He’s getting sick, I can smell it.  Not that it matters.  Hurry up, I’d like to get this over with.”  Maul gestured towards the doorway.

\---

“I refuse to be sedated,” growled Maul the moment they walked through the door.  Obi-wan rolled his eyes.   _ Rude, much? _

An older woman, perhaps in her forties, looked up from her novel.  “Ah, you’re here for...legs?”

“Yes,” replied Maul, “And I’m not letting you sedate me.”

“Well,” the woman (Nellie, Obi-wan remembered) smiled at Maul despite the anger that was pouring off him, “we’ll see about that.”  She pointed to a table across the room covered with a white paper sheet.  “Set’im on there, will you?”

“Alright.”  Obi-wan did as instructed, ignoring the tiny pulse of frustration from Maul as he was lowered onto the table.

The woman pulled on a pair of gloves.  “How many nerve endings do you have left?”

Maul narrowed his gaze, just for a moment.  “I’ve never really checked.”

The woman nodded.  “I see.  Lay back for me, will you?  I’ll need to look at the scarring.”

Maul let himself flop back onto the table.  As the doctor inspected the swirling mess of scar tissue that made up Maul’s lower torso, Obi-wan noted how Maul gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled fingers.   _ This is not off to a good start… _

With a clang that had Obi-wan twitching in surprise and Maul reeling away from the doctor’s probing fingers, the mechanic entered the room with an armful of robotic parts.  Nellie turned, smiling.  “Thanks for bringing the parts.  I’ll be ready for the next patient this afternoon-- this’ll take a while.”

The mechanic nodded and left the room.

\---

In the end, Obi-wan had forced Maul to take the anesthesia.  He’d been angry, but tired and aching (Obi-wan didn’t want to think about the implications of  _ why _ being touched by a stranger caused such psychological strain on Maul-- it was too disturbing.) and wanting to shut out the world.  Obi-wan sighed as the anesthesia was administered and Maul’s eyes drifted shut and his fist unclenched.   _ So damn mistrustful. _

After the surgery, Obi-wan had scooped Maul (still unconscious-- his mind was completely blank, like a void,  _ probably exactly how he prefers _ , Obi-wan thought) into his arms and carried him back to the apartment.  He set Maul on the bed, gently.  Then, he went to make tea and meditate.  

Obi-wan would install the tracker later in the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to write. Hard to move the plot along, but I had to get the ball rolling somehow. Please forgive inaccuracies, I'm sure there are loads.
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on tumblr: pomodoriyum.tumblr.com


	5. Get me some goddamn coffee, you ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul absolutely, positively, does not deserve to suffer this much.

Maul woke up when Obi-wan was midway through his second set of katas.  Obi-wan felt a twitch of excitement in the Force, and a few moments later heard a loud thunk.  He sighed.   _ Better go check on that idiot so he won’t do something stupid. _  Following the string of muffled curses, Obi-wan strode to the bedroom.

Maul was on the floor, gripping the side of his head.  A bruise was blossoming under his fingertips.   _ Idiot. _

“What are you doing on the floor?”  _ Your legs had better work fine.  I paid good money for those. _

“Oh, you know, I’m on the floor because I fancied a good look under the Force-damned bed,” Maul snapped.

Obi-wan suppressed an eye-roll.  “Hit your head?”

“Shut up.  I’m working on getting these goddamn legs to move.”   _ Shit, if the doctor didn’t connect those nerve endings right I’ll be pissed. _

“Fine, fine, but you’re probably still woozy from the anesthetic.”  Despite himself, Obi-wan reached down and pulled Maul up by the elbow.

The Zabrak didn’t comment, and merely clutched at Obi-wan, knees shaky.  Upon closer inspection of his face, Obi-wan noted that Maul’s eyes were not completely focused.   _ General anesthesia really took it out of you, huh, Maul?  No wonder you didn’t want to take any. _

Maul blinked rapidly as his pupils contracted and growled, “What? What is it, Kenobi?”  After a moment, he smirked, unconsciously licking his lips.  “Like what you see?”

Obi-wan pulled a face.  “Ugh, with teeth like yours?  Don’t be disgusting.”   _ Although your facial structure is...nice. _

Maul snorted and let go of Obi-wan’s arm.  He took a few wobbling steps.  Obi-wan watched as a smile spread its way across Maul’s face.  “I can walk,” he muttered under his breath.  “I can finally walk.”  The Force was practically vibrating with excitement.   _ Damn, this is going to give me a headache.  It’s like working with the younger padawans at the temple…too much energy.   _ Suddenly, though, the Zabrak yawned and the exhilaration in the Force ebbed.

Obi-wan motioned Maul towards the bed.  “You should sleep.  Let the sedative wear off.  I’ll make dinner.”   _ Oh Force, I sound awfully domestic. _

“Ah, fuck off, Kenobi.”  Maul wiggled his cybernetic toes.  “I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts.”

“Alright, fine.  I’m not picking you up from wherever you collapse in exhaustion, though.”  Obi-wan left for the kitchen.   _ I’m going to make something tasty to celebrate.  _  Obi-wan purposely did not think about why Maul’s happiness mattered to him (because it was just a Jedi thing, and of course he was just following the codes to the letter, not because Maul’s mental state actually  _ meant _ anything to him--  _ right? _ )  

Only an hour later (for the first three quarters Obi-wan could hear Maul clanking about the apartment walking and jogging, but for the last fifteen minutes, everything was eerily quiet), Obi-wan found Maul sleeping heavily on the couch, arms and legs draped over the pillows gracelessly.  A small dribble of saliva  had made its way from Maul’s mouth to puddle where his cheek was pressed into the arm of the couch.  Obi-wan sighed.  The Zabrak looked a bit like one of the big, lazy cats Obi-wan had seen in local pet stores windows.   _ I’ve always wanted to get a fatass cat… _

Obi-wan prodded Maul with a finger.  Maul made a small mumbling noise and his nose twitched once, angrily.  The Zabrak raised a sleepy hand and batted Obi-wan’s finger away.  Obi-wan prodded him again (resisting the urge to smack his face with a pillow, just  _ barely _ ) and laughed when Maul swatted him away again.  Maul’s eyes shot open.

The expression on Maul’s face when he woke up ( _finally!_ Because honestly, how long does it take to properly wake?) was one of bone-deep confusion.  His eyes were wide though, and clear: the sedatives seemed to have worn off.   _So now there’s nothing blocking the pain from surgery.  Oh, joy._  Obi-wan sighed.

“How are you feeling, Maul?”

Maul blinked at him groggily.  “Kenobi…”

“What?”

“That’s a stupid question.”  Maul struggled into a sitting position, casting a squashed pillow aside, and began to rub circles around the base of his horns.  “Because it’s damn obvious that I feel like shi--”  Maul trailed off.

“Maul?”

The Zabrak straightened up.  He reached out a tentative hand towards his new legs.  “Oh,” he breathed, softly, “I forgot.”

Then, a wide grin spread across his features.  Obi-wan smiled, too.  Abruptly, though, Maul sighed and his expression darkened.  He shuddered.  With a jolt, Obi-wan noticed that Maul’s eyes were beginning to tear up.

“Maul--”

“Shut up and leave me alone.”  The Zabrak’s voice was wavering, and his hands had a white-knuckled grip on his metal thighs.

Obediently, Obi-wan shut up and went to set the table.   _ He probably needs a few minutes to center himself. _

\---

Dinner was a (relatively) quiet affair.  Maul cleared his plate (as usual) and got up several times for more servings.

“Damn Maul, you’re hungry today.”

The Zabrak shrugged.  “I’ve got a very high metabolism.”  Obi-wan noticed, though, that Maul’s hand fluttered self consciously to his prominent ribs for a moment before it was yanked away.   _ No, you’re just trying to gain back weight and muscle mass.   _ Obi-wan pretended he didn’t see and scraped the vestiges of food from his plate.  

“Hey, Maul.”

The Zabrak looked up from his plate, mouth full of food and eyes narrowed.  “Mmph?”

“There’s fruit for dessert.”

Maul swallowed.  “The concept of dessert is stupid.  ...I want to try a pear.  They look odd.”

Obi-wan rolled his eyes.  “Sure, I’ll get you a pear.”   _ Concept of dessert is stupid, my ass. _

That night, Maul demanded to sleep on the couch and Obi-wan nervously conceded.   _ Please don’t kill me in my sleep. _

\---

Obi-wan was glad to wake up and find that all of his limbs were still attached to his body.  It was early in the morning, still, and as Obi-wan padded silently to the kitchen he passed Maul, asleep on the couch, muttering incoherently  Obi-wan shook his head and made himself a cup of tea.

A few minutes trickled by, and as Obi-wan reverently steeped his tea Maul stumbled into the kitchen, still wiping the sleep from his face.

“Coffee,”  Maul mumbled, “where do you keep the coffee?”

Obi-wan frowned.  “I don’t have any coffee--”

“Cut the crap, I know you have coffee, I can  _ smell  _ the coffee,  _ where is the coffee _ ?”  Maul, clearly, was not a morning person.

Obi-wan sighed.  “You can try checking the cabinets, but I’m fairly certain there isn’t any coffee.  I don’t drink it.”

Maul snarled something and began to rummage (loudly) through the cabinets.  “Aha!”  He pulled an old coffee can from the shelves and shoved it into Obi-wan’s face.  “See?  I  _ knew  _ you had coffee.”

Obi-wan shook his head.  “That’s not coffee, Maul, I use that to keep spare change.”

“What?!” Maul ripped off the plastic lid and stared at the mound of coins inside.  He gave groan of frustration.  “Fuck you, Kenobi.”

Obi-wan huffed.  “Would you like me to buy some coffee today at the market?”   _ Although you’ve been an ass about it. _

Sinking into a nearby chair and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, Maul hissed, “ _ Yes. _ ”

Obi-wan took a drink from his mug of tea.  “In the meantime, I can get you tea.”

Maul heaved a sigh.  “Yes.  Tea will do.  It’s just that I haven’t had a decent cup of caf in  _ ages _ .”

“Mmm.”  Obi-wan set a steaming cup of tea in front of Maul.

The rest of the morning was spent in (almost) companionable silence.

\---

The apartment was eerily quiet when Obi-wan returned home from the market, bag of coffee, tea, and chocolate clutched to his chest.

“Maul?”  The bedroom and kitchen were empty.   _ Damn him.  Took the legs and ran-- although I should have expected this, dealing with a Sith of all creatures.  _ The thoughts came unbidden, and a flush of bitterness crept up Obi-wan’s neck.   _ And now he’s loose in Coruscant.  It’s my own Force-damned fault, too. _

Suddenly, though, a low groan cut through the air.

“Maul?”

There was another moan, louder this time, coming from the bathroom.   _ Shit. _

Obi-wan rushed to the door and yanked it open.

Maul was lying facedown on the cold tiles.  The back of his shirt was soaked through with...something.  And there was an overpowering smell of sickness.  Vomit was puddled by Maul’s head.   _ Shit, shit, shit! _

Obi-wan was beginning to panic, because oh god what if Maul was dying, and it wasn’t like he could take him to the hospital because  _ how in hell would he explain to the Council that he had a Sith hidden away in his apartment _ \--

Maul made a noise that was close to a whimper, breaking Obi-wan’s stream of thoughts.   _ Fuck. Right. Maul. _

Obi-wan knelt by Maul’s head.  The Zabrak’s fingers twitched and he wheezed something incomprehensible.

“Hey, Maul?”  Obi-wan gently slid a hand under his head, propping his face up.

Maul’s eyes opened hazily, out of reflex, and he murmured something incoherent (but Obi-wan  _ knew _ that Maul wasn’t really seeing him, his gaze was too unfocused, he was somewhere entirely  _ else _ ).  There was dried vomit on his cheek, Obi-wan noted dizzily.  He lifted a hand to Maul’s sweaty forehead.  The Zabrak was burning up.

“Hey, Maul.  I’m going to look at your back, okay?  Maul?”  Maul groaned again and his fingers fluttered against Obi-wan’s hand (and seriously?  Obi-wan didn’t even remember reaching out for them).

Obi-wan gently peeled the soggy fabric from Maul’s back.  He gasped.

Maul’s skin was littered with blisters the size of Obi-wan’s thumb.  Some had torn open, oozing pus.  Obi-wan gagged as the foul smell assaulted his nostrils.  Maul shuddered.   _ Oh gods be good, this is bad. _  Grimly, Obi-wan grabbed a towel and began wiping him down.   _ What the hell kind of space-bug is this, anyway? _

The rash on Maul’s back extended from his shoulders down to where his metal hips bit into his raised, painful flesh.  Obi-wan noted that the blisters seemed to cluster in around the ridge of Maul’s spine,  _ probably because those areas are the easiest to reach when there’s itching… _

Obi-wan smeared an antibacterial cream over and around the blisters.  Beneath his gentle hands, Maul was shuddering in agony.  Then, Obi-wan sealed the mess with bandages.   _ I’ll go get bacta patches tomorrow. _  He scooped Maul up (and  _ damn if he didn’t have a high-grade fever _ ) and set him, belly-down, onto the bed.  Maul made a noise that was close to a sob.

“Shhh, Maul.  You’re going to be alright.” ...  _ At least I hope you will be. _  Obi-wan ran a soothing thumb down Maul’s cheek.  Maul frowned and turned his face away.

Exhausted and worried, Obi-wan fell asleep listening to the ragged rhythm of Maul’s breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally my favorite chapter to write so far. Hope you nerds enjoyed it.


	6. Dear Asshole, Screw You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies to Maul. Again.

Maul’s fever broke around midnight.

Then, came the chills.  Maul had been shivering, shuddering, sweat pouring down his forehead even as he begged for more blankets, more _warmth_ ( _Please_ , he had whimpered, _I’m so cold.  I’m so cold.  Please._ )  Obi-wan could only do so much: he spent the night bent over Maul’s prone form, coaxing down water and painkillers and wiping off his mouth when the Zabrak inevitably retched it all back up.  Although Obi-wan made his touches as soft as he could (gently, _gently_ ), Maul tensed and pulled away.  The Zabrak took to whispering indistinct secrets, golden eyes scanning for _something_ and hands clawing at the sheets.  He was somewhere entirely else (Once, Maul looked at him straight in the eye, even as tears tracked their way down his face _because of the pressure on his goddamn tear ducts_ and said, clearly, with almost no inflection, “Master, the Jedi is dead, the Padawan, he--” and then Maul had broken off to gasp, a breathless string of, _“No, please, Master, I killed one of them, it wasn’t my fault, please, please, stop, no, NO, STOP, PLEASE, MA--”_ )

Eventually, Maul fell into a drained sleep, breath labored and limbs still imperceptibly shivering.  Obi-wan curled around him (protectively?).   _ I don’t care if I get ill, too.  If he dies...I wouldn’t forgive myself.  Damn the Force.  Damn it to the inner circle of the ninth hell. _

_ Damn it all. _

\---

Obi-wan woke to soft, even breaths and sweat-slicked limbs wrapped in a vise around him.  The overpowering, sour odor of perspiration filled the air and Obi-wan gagged, pulling away from the overly warm nest of blankets.  He landed on the floor, gasping.   _ Ouch… _

Maul, still enmeshed in the mound of blankets, gave a small, mellow sigh.  Obi-wan stood, and inspected the Zabrak, feeling a tiny spark of relief.   _ Thank the Force he isn’t worse.  ...I’ll take a look at his back when he wakes up. _

Obi-wan took a brief shower, scrubbing the night’s sweat from his skin in abrasive swipes of soap.   _ Can’t afford to get sick myself, not if Maul’s still in bad condition. _  Obi-wan dressed efficiently, quietly.  When he left the bathroom he found Maul sitting up in bed, disoriented, rubbing at his horns.

“Obi-wan?”  His voice was raspy, rough, and terribly,  _ terribly  _ lost.

“Maul.  Are you feeling alright?”  Obi-wan sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring how his hand twitched toward the Zabrak’s shoulder in concern.

Caught off guard, the Zabrak shrugged.  “I -- I’ve felt worse.”  He scowled, rasped,  “Far worse.”

“Your back…I’ll need to look at it.  And I’d like you to tell me what happened, if you can remember.”

Maul nodded, and then glanced down to the bandages encasing his chest with wide eyes, as if seeing them for the first time.  “I was…” He frowned, as if struggling to remember, “I was sitting on the couch.  I started feeling a pounding in my head...around midday?”  Glare deepening, Maul growled, “It was the damned mechanic.  He was the one that got me sick.”

Obi-wan shrugged as he kneeled behind Maul to unwrap the bandages.  “I don’t know-- maybe.  But bacteria don’t usually infect more than one or two species.  I’d probably have gotten sick, too, if it were the mechanic.”

Maul hissed as the gauze peeled away from his inflamed skin.  “Don’t defend him, Kenobi.  Besides, I was isolated as a child.”  Something dark flickered over the Zabrak’s face.  “I didn’t have the chance to build a good immune system.”  Obi-wan’s gaze was carefully neutral.

“Mmm.  Well, that might explain it.”  Obi-wan winced as the last of the dressings fell away and Maul’s blistered back came into full view.

Maul took one deep breath (probably to have enough air in his lungs to complain about something) and gagged.   _ Looks like his heightened sense of smell gives him a...more intense perception.   _ “That smells foul, Kenobi.  Did you let my back rot away? No wonder I feel like shit…”

Obi-wan shook his head.  “There are blisters on your back that’re leaking pus.”

“...that sounds disgusting.  Have you given me painkillers?  The pain seems...unusually dulled.”

“Yeah, last night.  You screamed something awful.”  Obi-wan frowned at the memory.

Maul tensed.  “I see.  Next time, do me a favor and don’t force anything down my throat, Kenobi.”

“Hm.  We’ll see.”  Obi-wan gently prodded a blister with his finger.  It oozed something yellow-green.  Obi-wan’s lip curled.   _ I’ve never been much interested in healing. _

Maul turned to stare at him with his piercing sunburst eyes.  They narrowed angrily.  “No.  You’re not going to put anything in me that doesn’t belong there without my express permission.”

_ Oddly intense reaction…  _ Obi-wan sighed.  “All right.  But you’re going to let me disinfect your back.”

“By what method?”

Obi-wan winced.  “Salt bath.  Unless you prefer bacta patches, which I can’t really afford-- not with the amount of bacta you’d need.”   _ Bactas baths are so expensive it’s practically criminal. _

Maul shrugged.  “I can handle the pain, Kenobi.”

“As long as you’re sure about it.”

\---

Obi-wan yawned and looked up from his book.  Maul, still recovering from his intense  bout of illness, lay on his belly on the floor, arms pillowed beneath his head. The Jedi stared at him for a moment.   _ It’s very strange that his sickness only lasted a day.  Although I suppose it’s not all that uncommon.   _ Obi-wan poked at him with a lazy foot.  “Maul.”

“Mmmph.”  Maul batted his foot away, growling.  “What.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t tell me what to do while your fat Jedi ass is parked on the couch.”  Obi-wan snorted.

“There’s a bed, you know.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”  Maul sighed.  “You’re trying to get me to go sleep on it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”   _ No shit, Sherlock.   _ “Propping your head up while you’re on your belly is awful for your back.”

“Fine,” Maul added, almost fondly, “you bastard.”  He pulled himself up and stretched, catlike.  “Did you wash the sheets?  They were caked with dried pus.”

“Ugh.  Yes.” Obi-wan shuddered at the memory.   _ The sheets were awful _ .

“Good.”  Maul strode out of the room.  Obi-wan heard rather than saw him plop onto the bed.

“Goodnight,” Obi-wan called, feeling almost stupid.

The only response he got was a tired snort of amusement.   _ Right. _

\---

Obi-wan went to sleep on the couch alone that night, only to find Maul draped over him in the morning, face burrowing into Obi-wan’s shoulder.  His hand was perilously close to cupping Obi-wan’s arse and one arm was wedged beneath Obi-wan, while the other splayed across the armrest of the couch ( _ What a weird position _ , Obi-wan thought).  Neither of them mentioned the incident over their morning drinks, and Obi-wan refused to think about how comfortable it had been having Maul’s limbs entangled in his (thus avoiding reflection on any implications of Maul’s strange actions).   _ I’m probably the only person he’s ever been comfortable around, besides his master, so this behaviour makes sense.  I’m sure he was just cold.  Any ensuing awkwardness is really only from me. _  Unwilling to break the peaceful mood, Obi-wan suggested a night out, ‘to celebrate Maul’s better health’.

“And why the hell do you think that’s a good idea?”  Was Maul’s only response.

“Well, I won’t have to cook.  And you’ll get exposure to some new foods.”

“Fair enough, Kenobi.  Although that proves my point that you’re a lazy ass.”

Ignoring the jab, Obi-wan asked,“Promise you won’t run off?”  

Maul rolled his eyes.  “Sith don’t make promises they intend to keep.”  He smirked.  “You’ll just have to keep an eye on me, Jedi.”

Obi-wan sighed.  “Fine, Maul.  Fine.  But if you insist on running off, next time I’ll put you on a leash like a dog.”  Maul made a noise of outrage.

“You’re the kinkiest Jedi I’ve known, Kenobi.  Besides, I’d never let you.”

_ I swear if I roll my eyes any harder they’ll get stuck.   _ Obi-wan shook his head.  “Maul. Stop being gross.”

Maul just gave him a very, very self-assured (catlike) smile. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter, and I apologize. Hope you enjoyed, though!


	7. Well I guess it's time to suffer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan really, really doesn't want to get punched again.

The night out was less stressful than Obi-wan had anticipated.  Maul ate quickly and silently, like usual.  He left nothing on his plate, and demanded soon after that they leave.  Obi-wan sighed and pushed his plate to the side.   _ I  honestly should have expected that.  Maul really doesn’t see the point in these sort of celebrations. _

“You want to leave already?”

Maul scowled.  “Yes.  We’ve finished eating.  No need to waste time here talking.  Besides, I hate crowds.” 

Obi-wan shrugged.  He waved the waiter over so he could pay their bill.  “I hope you at least enjoyed the food.”

“It was decent.”

“And your teeth?”  Obi-wan wrote out the check.   _ Kriff.  The bill’s expensive. _

Maul frowned, baring his canines.  “What about them?”

“Are they still hurting?”   _ I mean, they’re still yellow, but most of the debris is gone, except for the stuff that was plastered on. _

“The pain was negligible.”

“Good.”  Obi-wan smiled.   _ I’ll bet you’re still pretty gentle with the toothbrush now, though. _

When they got back to the apartment, Obi-wan pulled out two beers from the fridge and set them down on his pitted wooden table.   _ Time to indulge, just a bit. _

Maul took one and sniffed it, turning it to read the label.  “I haven’t had any beer in ages.”

Obi-wan shrugged.  “I figured as much.”   _ You probably weren’t allowed to drink as a Sith apprentice, either. _

Maul snorted and took a swig from his bottle.

“...what?”  

“I thought you Jedi were supposed to abstain from alcohol.”

Obi-wan stretched.  “You’re right, but tonight’s a celebration.  Besides, a beer every once in awhile won’t hurt.”

Maul shrugged.  “Whatever, Kenobi.” 

_ As if drinking alcohol is worse than sheltering a Sith apprentice from the Jedi Council.  Force, if they find out, I’m fucked. _

\---

It happened only a few minutes later.  Looking back on it, Obi-wan should have expected it.  The Jedi never really could keep his mouth shut, and the conversation  _ had _ been a long time in coming.

“Hey, Maul?”

Maul grunted, still nursing his drink.

“Earlier, while you were sick, you kept mentioning someone…”

Maul’s eyes met Obi-wan’s over the top of his bottle, glittering and narrowed.   _ Shit, I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. _

But, like the jack-headed idiot he was, Obi-wan kept going.   _ I’m damn curious.  Besides, Maul won’t answer if he doesn’t want to. _  “Uh...I just wanted to know what happened after Naboo.  How you survived, if-- if anyone helped you.”

Maul snarled, and Obi-wan put up his hands.  “Okay, okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.  I’m just curious.”  Maul’s face twisted with rage and the Zabrak turned his head away.  Obi-wan sat at the table awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs.   _ Damn, now I’ve ruined the ambiance.  Maul’s angry and it’s my fault.  Should have expected it. _

When Maul spoke next, his voice was a hoarse whisper.  “He came to visit me on Lotho Minor.  My Master, he--” Maul swallowed hard, “He was unsatisfied with my work.”  Maul’s shoulders were trembling minutely, and Obi-wan could see him clenching and unclenching his fist.   _ Shit. _

“Maul, I--”

“He punished me.”  Obi-wan could hear the wavering in his voice now (and  _ damn if he didn’t regret starting this conversation now of all times-- _ ).

“My Master abandoned me because I failed.  I’m not useful, not anymore-- I’m damaged goods.”  As if to prove his point, he gestured to his cybernetic legs with one hand.  Maul took another choked breath as he turned to glare at Obi-wan.  His eyes were wet with unspilled tears.

“Maul--”

“NO!”  Maul shouted, fist banging the table.  His voice was desperate,  _ aching _ .  “Shut up, Kenobi, you--” the Zabrak stopped to suppress a sob _.  _  His shoulders were quaking with the effort, and Maul doubled over, clawing at his own sides in a gruesome parody of a hug, and Obi-wan could sense Maul’s anger stirring.  Obi-wan reached out a comforting hand, only for Maul to reel away, roaring, “No, no, DON’T TOUCH ME, KENOBI!” Maul’s chair clattered to the floor and his drink spilled across the table as tears of frustration flowed down Maul’s cheeks.

“Maul, please--”  Obi-wan stood, too, hands held out in a demonstration of peace.

“And you know what, Kenobi?!”  Maul was panting, and his bottle shattered with the fluctuating rage in the Force that rippled across the room, spraying glass and beer.  “I can’t even blame you!!  It was my own Force-damned fault for mistaking-- I should have killed you first!!!”

Obi-wan winced at the memory of that pain-filled day.   _ I still miss Qui-gon so much… _  Maul sank to his knees, using a hand to cover his face (and Obi-wan felt so damn  _ guilty _ , because he had caused the Zabrak so much pain, and--).   _ I should… He needs _ … Before Obi-wan was aware of moving, he was kneeling by Maul’s side.

“Maul, shhh, Maul…”  Obi-wan gently reached out a hand to touch Maul’s quivering sides, only for the Zabrak to flinch back.   _ Right.  Okay...let’s try again. _  Obi-wan insisted, though, and slowly Maul leaned into his touch.  The Zabrak gave a howl of frustration, hand clawing at Obi-wan’s back painfully, and for a moment Obi-wan thought he’d made a grave mistake, and  _ oh shit I’ve fucked up and now he’s going to slaughter me _ \--

But Maul’s hand suddenly balled in the fabric of Obi-wan’s shirt, and he found himself holding onto Maul as he sobbed, breaths hitching in his throat, nearly hyperventilating.  Snot and tears worked their way through Obi-wan’s garments to his skin and he could feel saliva dripping from Maul’s quivering mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  Wails of rage slowly gave way to a soft, gentle weeping.   _ Force, _ Obi-wan thought distantly,  _ Maul’s going to be so embarrassed _ .  After a few minutes of subdued crying, Maul gradually pulled his face from where it had been nestled in Obi-wan’s shoulder.  He wiped snot away from his mouth, looking utterly disgusted.

“I’m so weak,” he breathed, “My legs, and I couldn’t even hold myself together--”

“No,” Obi-wan cut him off, “You’re not.”  He leaned forward again, hugging the Zabrak close.

“Yes, I am,” the Zabrak whispered, sounding terribly  _ lost _ and very, very convinced.

“No,” (Obi-wan began to rub circles into Maul’s back), “you aren’t.  You’re quite strong, actually.  Because you survived.  Nearly no one could survive being sliced in half, and yet here you are.”

The Zabrak hiccupped, and roughly wiped at his eyes.

“Come on, Maul, I think we both need to sleep.”

“Fine.”   _ His voice isn’t wavering any more.  He recovers quick.  _ Maul looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes.  “The hell are you crying for, too?”

Obi-wan touched his face, and found it wet.  “I-- I don’t know. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”   _ Fuck, I’m-- _

The Zabrak nodded, and the duo stumbled to bed.   _ I’ll clean up the mess from the glass and beer tomorrow.  Too upset tonight. _

Sleeping together should have been awkward, but it wasn’t.  The bed was large enough for both of them to sprawl out and just barely brush (they carefully positioned themselves so they weren’t touching, Maul on his back, Obi-wan on his side, and the Jedi wondered how the hell that was comfortable with his horns, but he wasn’t about to ask.  The Zabrak was about as emotionally stable as a Geonosian, which was to say,  _ not at all _ ).  Maul chose the side closest to the bathroom, where he could (presumably) watch the entryway.   _ Old habits die hard, I guess _ .  And then, Obi-wan collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion.  

\---

Obi-wan woke with his face pressed into Maul’s shoulders.  The Zabrak’s arm was slung across his waist, curling comfortably into the mattress and the soft curve of Obi-wan’s ass.  The Jedi should have been uncomfortable, but he wasn’t.  Light filtered in lazily from the room’s skylight, and Obi-wan could see the shadow of a fat swallow as it flapped about.   _ Mm.  This is nice. _  Obi-wan let his hands run up and down Maul’s broad back ( _ haha, just to see if his blisters are gone, I’m not being completely irrational, am I?) _  Maul rumbled, and from where Obi-wan was nestled up next to him, it sounded  _ almost _ like a purr.  Obi-wan did it again, this time angling his hands so his fingernails scraped a bit against Maul’s spine.  Maul stretched out, making another soft, vibrating noise somewhere deep in his chest.  “Mmmph.”  Obi-wan fought back a giggle.   _ Oh Force, he really IS just like some cat, isn’t he? _  Obi-wan ran his hands down his back  _ just one last time _ .  His hands came to rest where Maul’s waist was engulfed by his prosthesis.  The Zabrak shifted away, then, pulling the blankets with him and leaving Obi-wan to the mercy of the chilly bedroom air.

“Oi!”  Obi-wan followed him, rolling again so he was just touching Maul, because  _ damn it was cold outside the bed,  _ and besides,  _ those were Obi-wan’s blankets, too! _

But this time, as Obi-wan brushed Maul’s arm, there was an electric jolt that spasmed through the fabric of the Force.  That was all the warning Obi-wan got before Maul’s eyes opened, yellow and wide and unfocused and  _ angry _ , and he found himself kicked,  _ hard _ , in the stomach.  He yelped and fell to the floor, cracking his head.  “Fuck--”  Obi-wan rolled onto his belly, glancing under the bed only to see Maul’s metal feet hit the floor, and then he was being pulled upwards by his collar, and he was gasping, straining for air,  _ goddamnit where is my lightsaber-- _

Maul dropped him with a disgusted growl.

“Shit, Maul, what in hell was that about?”

The Zabrak glowered at him through narrowed eyes.  Absently, Obi-wan noted that he was breathing hard.  Instead of answering, though, Maul offered him a hand, pulling the Jedi up.

“Maul, are you alright?”   _ You fucking scared me.  Dick. _

The Zabrak shrugged.  “Been worse.”

Obi-wan rubbed the back of his head.  “That hurt, dammit.”

Maul snorted.  “I’m confident that you’ll cope with it.”  He stalked out of the room and into the kitchen.  “Kenobi, do you want your usual tea or do you have the balls to try coffee?”

“I don’t like coffee, and the caffeine’s bad for my health.  Tea is fine.”   _ Is this Maul’s way of apologizing?  He’s never offered to make me a drink before… _

“Tea contains caffeine, too, you idiot.  You want it without sugar, as usual, correct?”

“How did you guess?”  Obi-wan fought back a smirk.   _ He really IS apologizing. _

“You like things to be as bitter as your old man’s soul.”  Maul was chuckling, now.

Instead of replying with his usual snarky banter, Obi-wan decided to do something agonizingly reckless.  He tapped Maul’s shoulder, once, to draw the Zabrak’s attention, and as Maul looked down, startled, Obi-wan wrapped his arms around Maul’s waist.

The Zabrak frowned.  “What, Kenobi?”

Obi-wan stooped a bit to press his face into the back of Maul’s neck.  The Zabrak writhed nervously, trying to turn and face him.  “Kenobi, what in hells is it?”

“I care about you, you pssaffking idiot.”

“Oh.”  The Zabrak stilled for a moment, and Obi-wan’s heart lurched into his throat.  He suddenly felt very, very ill.  He let go of Maul, backing away, only to be caught at the wrist and tugged forward.

“Kenobi--”, Maul wrapped his arms around Obi-wan, “--I care about you, too.”

Obi-wan sagged in relief.  “Good.”

After a moment or two of comforting hugging, Maul growled.

“Now let me make my damn coffee.”

Obi-wan hummed.   _ Yeah, I think the day’s off to a pretty decent start. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it on this one. It's been fun to write! Thank you for sticking around, all of your feedback and comments made my day!
> 
> Always feel welcome to send me prompts/ideas via ask at pomodoriyum.tumblr.com !!


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